


New Hunter?

by pagesofwrittenwings



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-04-13 23:21:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14123049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pagesofwrittenwings/pseuds/pagesofwrittenwings
Summary: Dean and Sam Winchester thought that they were going to be tackling just a regular case. Small town, weird animal deaths, please they could do this shit in their sleep.  But then behold, a gorgeous blonde bombshell who doesn’t seem too happy to see them ends up there too. Who is she? What is her goal? And what is with her hatred for a certain angel? Stay tuned to find out, next on Supernatural.





	New Hunter?

**Author's Note:**

> P: Sup fuckers this took 3 years to get to you and there isn’t even a chapter 2 yet. Strap in for a story with an oc and some serious fucking strange shit. Be prepared for torture and other types of fucked shit. You have been warned, now let’s see how much angst and fluff can be put into one fanfiction.  
> W: Btw this will most definitely not have any current canon because both of us have stopped watching the show for the past couple years.  
> P: Also the current canon sucks. Except maybe Lucifer’s son.  
> W: That’s definitely interesting.  
> P: Also guys title subject to change so if you guys have any suggestions we’re all ears. Oh and if you’re confused that's because there are 2 authors here, you can call me Pages, I haven’t posted anything on here yet.  
> W: I posted the fmab story. You can call me Wings.  
> P: Alright time to get this clusterfuck on the road.

Sam crashed through a worn down wall, sending wood splintering in every direction. A loud pop was heard as his shoulder dislocated.

 

“Sammy!” Dean yelled, pulling the trigger of his sawed-off shotgun which shot salt rounds into the ghost’s torso. With a shriek it disappeared, leaving the two hunters alone in the abandoned house. Sam picked himself up off the floor, struggling to hold onto his gun as he stood up. He shot Dean a quick thumbs up and turned to the mantle on top of the fireplace. There, in a photo-frame sat two old concert tickets, the print faded but the autograph still readable. With Dean keeping watch behind him, Sam quickly walked up to it and broke open the frame.

 

“Nirvana…” He held up the tickets for Dean to see.

 

“You heard what the girlfriend said, just burn them before Emo Casper comes back.”  

 

Sam pulled out the lighter and tried to burn the tickets but the lighter wouldn’t catch. Before he could try again the ghost re-appeared behind him and sent him flying into Dean. The older brother’s head cracked against the floor, knocking him unconscious.

 

“Dean!” Sam yelled, trying to shake his brother awake, but the ghost grabs him and throws him against the mantle. He slid to the ground, his back in agony as every small movement sent a shot of pain down his spine and caused black spots to swim in his vision. Yet he still managed to lunge for the tickets. This time the lighter caught and both the tickets and the ghost tied to them were engulfed in flames.

 

Sam heaved himself off the floor and shuffled over to Dean. He started to wake him and with a groan, Dean began to move.

 

“Damn bastard packed a serious punch.” Dean said while he stood up. He moved towards his brother and in one swift motion slid Sam’s shoulder back into place. A pop sounded through the old house as Sam groaned.

 

“Fucking hell.” Sam muttered, the pain intense, but now starting to subside.

 

“Oh come on don’t be such a bitch.” Dean said grinning, but his exhaustion can be heard in his words, as both of them were out of breath. It was a long hunt, and after everything they had been through the ghost had been more of an annoyance than anything.

 

The brothers head towards the door, Dean’s head still throbbing and Sam’s back still screaming with every step. They left the rotting house and trekked back to the Impala. Sam collapsed in the passenger’s seat, exhaustion leading him away from consciousness.

 

“Wake me when it’s my turn…” he said as he fell asleep. Dean just shook his head and started the car. Just another day.

 

The drive back to the bunker was long, too long. Dean was getting tired but he didn’t want to wake Sam, more importantly, he didn’t want Sam to drive. So he decided to use common sense for once and stop for the night. They ended up in a small town a little bit away from the main road. It was dark, none of the stores were open and there were few streetlights. Dean pulled in and shook Sam awake, being careful to avoid the shoulder that he had dislocated.

 

“Ughhh, what Dean?” Sam mumbled as he woke up.

 

“C’mon we’re stopping for the night.” Dean said as he got out of the car. Sam begrudgingly got out and followed Dean to the main office of the seedy motel. Inside there was a man reading the back of a newspaper with dry, cracked skin and a bad case of receding hairline sitting behind the desk, the light bulb flickering in and out. He didn’t even look up as they approached.  

 

“How can I help ya?” He asked without raising his head.

 

“A room with two beds” Dean answered, slightly annoyed because dammit they saved lives and this asshole couldn’t even manage to look up from a newspaper.

 

“You’ll be in room 23.” The man handed Dean the key. Dean grabbed it and signed the guest book, before leaving the dreary lobby.The brothers headed to the room and practically collapsed once they got inside, neither even bothering to argue on which bed was whose.

 

“Hey, Sam? Did you see that-that newspaper headline?” Dean whispered as he drifted off to sleep.

 

* * *

 

 

Dean awoke to a newspaper landing on his face.

 

“Oh wha-Sam why?” He said as he sat up and tossed the newspaper to the floor. Sam picked it back up and tossed it back, one of his infamous ‘bitch faces’ in full effect despite the early hour.

 

“Last night you said look at the headline.”

“Huh?” Dean blinked, confused and tired.

“Just read the damn newspaper Dean.” Sam tossed a fast food bag at his brother, visibly annoyed.

 

“Breakfast sandwich, hell yeah.” Dean began to read as he took large bites of the sandwich in his hand. He could tell that the paper was local, with the news talking about some local garden contest and a long-awaited pregnancy. But the main story caught Dean’s attention, causing him to pause his last bite. In big bold letters, the front page reads **‘Third Death from an Animal Attack! Could a stray Wolf be responsible?’**

 

“So what? You thinking Hellhound?” Dean asked, finishing off the sandwich. He tossed the wrapper in the trashcan and leaned back on the bed.

 

“Well, considering wolves haven’t been seen in this area for years it should be something. The article mentions that the bites are huge. Now that could just be them exaggerating for the sake of news but I asked a couple questions while I was out and it seems most people around here think it’s a wolf. So the damage must be immense.”

 

Dean sat up with a groan. “Fine, let’s head to the morgue.”

  

* * *

 

 

The morgue smelled, like you’d expect a morgue to smell. Strong chemical cleaner with hints of rotting flesh, a smell that the boys had gotten used to. However as they moved closer to the autopsy table at the far side of the room the scent of slight rotting corpse became far more intense, and a ripe corpse was a smell the brothers will never get used to, and secretly hoped they never would. Sam and Dean flashed their badges to the coroner, however, Deans’ attention was quickly caught by the attractive blonde woman in a suit standing by the slab in the middle of the room. She turned her head towards them and pushed her glasses back into place on her nose. Dean smiled and held out a hand.

 

“Agent Townshend, this is Agent Jones, we’re from the Bureau.” Dean said, just a hint of flirt in his voice, he couldn’t lay it on too thick. Sam shook his head, but continued to get the notes from the coroner.

 

The woman shook Dean’s hand firmly as she moved her head to get a strand of her chin-length hair out of her eyes.

 

“Agent Foreman, also from the Bureau.” She looked at Dean and Sam, almost assessing them it seemed. She pushed her glasses up again then turned to the coroner.

 

“May my colleagues and I speak privately for a moment?” The way it was said made it clear it wasn’t a request. The boys and the coroner both realized that.

 

“Of course.” The coroner nods at the boys, more sheepishly at the woman. A short skinny man of 45 with greying hair, still nervous around a pretty face, even more nervous when the owner of that face was paying attention to him. He exited, almost bumping into a tray with autopsy tools on it on his way out.

 

The woman turned back to the body, then spoke.

 

“You two obviously aren’t FBI. I mean who are you kidding? With the tall one’s hair and the way you two carry yourselves, please. So I have only one question.” She turned back to them, her hand on the gun strapped to her side, brown eyes somehow harsher than they were before.

“Who the hell are you?”

**Author's Note:**

> P: Hope you enjoyed chapter 1! Oh and a note, we will be alternating writing chapters, so if you want chapter 2, bug Wings.  
> W: I’ll do my best, I’m also still writing my own side stories.  
> P: Yeah well I’ve got a sinful fish story to write Wings, so please everyone don’t expect us to be quick about this.  
> W: But we will do our best <3  
> P: Yeah I love ya guys so we’ll be trying, if you liked it or want to offer some constructive criticism leave it in the comments! Let us know how you feel, because then we might try to update quicker, might. Wings has a job and I’m in college so ya know how shit goes. Also I actually don't hate everything Supernatural is now I just couldn't handle Charlie ok, dying off-screen, unacceptable. See you guys in chapter 2!


End file.
